


Can You Sing?

by domokunrainbowkinz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Fluff, Jazz Club, Jazz Music, M/M, One Shot, Pining, i have no earthly clue how to tag this, singers - Freeform, they're all singers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11547036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domokunrainbowkinz/pseuds/domokunrainbowkinz
Summary: When one of the singers quits unexpectedly, Victor needs to find a replacement. Good thing one of the waiters can sing!





	Can You Sing?

**Author's Note:**

> was at work, saw a live band, got inspired, wrote this mess

It was busy at the Quad Axel Jazz Club.

Friday night: when everyone has gotten off work, finally winding down after a long week, wanting nothing more than to share a few drinks with friends with the sound of smooth jazz in the background. It was a night of laughs and relaxation, the jazz club a place for people to forget their worries for just a moment while they lose themselves in the music with the buzz of alcohol in their veins.

Unfortunately, because Victor was the manager of the club, this wasn’t possible.

“What do you mean he _quit?_ ” he hissed, trying not to disrupt the live performance currently occurring.

“Like I said – he saw a video of some guy performing his original piece and became convinced he’s his soulmate. He’s probably in Hong Kong now,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“Who even does that?!” Victor whispered loudly, running a hand through his hair.

“You.”

“That-okay, maybe,” Victor admitted. “But at least I’d give a month’s notice before running off! Pyotr didn’t even give us a _day._ ”

“Look, we just have to work around it tonight,” Chris started. “Can you stand in for him?”

“I would, but I have a sore throat,” Victor said. He started mentally running a list of singers through his head: Georgi was off tonight, and he couldn’t call him in because he’d _specifically_ requested this night off to spend with his girlfriend. Both Milla and Sara were in Russia, to meet Milla’s family, along with Michele and Emil since they were practically inseparable. The other singers he had in mind either lived too far away, or were working another job at this time.

In other words, there were no available singers tonight.

“Chris, can you sing?” Victor asked desperately.

The other man didn’t answer, only raising an eyebrow at Victor. In that instant, he was reminded of all the shower serenades he was unwillingly subjected to when they were roommates, and he immediately crossed Chris off the potential replacement list.

The current song ended, and Victor signalled at the band to continue on with another piece. They gave him a confused look, but obliged, and immediately started to play. He _could_ just make tonight a no-vocals night; lots of patrons had liked it when he’d done that before.

 _If Yakov were here, he’d force me to sing tonight, sore throat or not_ , Victor thought, feeling the dull throb as he swallowed. His throat didn’t hurt _that_ badly, and he didn’t sing as much these days, so a little bit of damage shouldn’t hurt, right?

He cleared his throat, then began going through some vocal warmups, testing out the state of his vocal cords. When he started going through the scales, a cough wracked through his body, burning his throat.

“Damn…” he muttered, his voice cracking. It was clear he wasn’t going to make it a minute into a song before hacking up a lung.

“You know, I think one of the waiters here can sing,” Chris suddenly said, and Victor grabbed his shoulders.

“ _Who?_ ” he asked, eyes wide.

“Uh, let me go get him.”

“I’ll go with you,” he asserted, following Chris out to the seating area. People filled the tables, swaying with the music while they laughed over something particularly funny that happened to them that week. Laughs and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mixed in with the sound of drums and horns as he weaved through the tables. Everywhere he looked, he saw connections, genuine smiles on tired faces.

Victor was happy for them, to have this waiting for them at the end of the week. Sure, he felt a weird pain in his chest whenever he hears a laugh, but he’s happy for them. He’s happy.

“He’s here,” Chris said, snapping Victor out of his thought. A dark-haired man stood in front of them, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Hey Chris, Victor,” he said, “what are you guys –”

“Can you sing?” Victor interrupted, earning him a confused look from the man.

“Sing?”

“Victor…” Chris scolded, shooting him a quick glare. “Sorry Phichit, it’s a bit of an emergency. Is your friend working here tonight? You know the one who sings?”

“Oh, Yuuri?” the man, replied. “Yeah, he’s working tonight, I’ll wave him over.”

His dark eyes scanned the crowd before he waved his arm, spotting his friend in the dimly-light club. Victor could see another dark-haired man making his way over to them, his blue-rimmed glasses standing out in the sea of muted colours.

“What’s up, Phichit?” he asked, before looking over at Chris and Victor. “Uh…do you two need something?”

“You can sing?” Victor asked, grabbing the man’s shoulders. He made a noise at the sudden movement, eyes widening like saucers as a bright blush spread over his face. The man nodded slightly.

“I-I had vocal training when I was younger, and I sang at clubs before, in Japan…”

“So you’ve also had performance experience?” Victor asked, and was it just his imagination, or was there a halo appearing above the man’s head?

“Yeah, a little bit…it’s not much though, I’m not sure – why are you asking?”

“Our singer decided to walk out on us and we need you to replace him for tonight,” Victor replied quickly, then grabbed the man’s hand, leading him to the backstage area. He could faintly hear Chris yell his name behind him, along with confused noises from Phichit, but Victor didn’t pay them any attention.

“W-wait, isn’t this a bit sudden?” the man asked, his voice coming out an octave higher than before. “Don’t you have any back-ups or something?”

“They’re all busy tonight,” Victor told him as they reached backstage, turning to face him. “I would stand in, but my throat is shot. You’re basically my last hope.”

“Your…last hope,” he said slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. Victor nodded, biting his lip. Of course, it was up to the man to decide whether or not he wanted to perform; Victor would never force him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with. But at the same time, he desperately, _desperately_ , hoped the man would agree to this request. Victor would give him double pay for the next month if he wanted.

“You’re absolutely _positive_ there’s no-one else available?” the man asked, and Victor shook his head.

The man sighed, then took off his glasses, tucking them into his pants pocket. Then, he slowly untied his apron, handing it over to Victor.

“I’ll do it,” he said, and Victor let out a huge sigh of relief. Before he could stop himself, he pulled the man into a tight embrace.

“Thank you, thank you so much you saved my life I’ve been stressing over this you have no idea –”

“Uh, no problem,” he said, patting Victor’s back. “I-I’ll try not to mess up out there.”

“I’m sure you’ll be _wonderful_ ,” Victor assured, pulling back so he could look at the man’s face. His dark brown eyes sparkled under the lights, cheeks slightly pink from the hug, his mouth curved into a soft smile.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, before turning towards the stage. The band was nearing the end of this song, and Victor gestured towards Yuuri before pointing towards the microphone in the centre of the stage.

“Before I forget, what’s your name?” Victor asked. He felt like it’s been mentioned before, but in his frenzy and panic, he wasn’t paying attention.

“Yuuri,” the man replied, “Yuuri Katsuki.”

“Yuuri,” Victor repeated, feeling the name roll over his tongue. “Okay Yuuri, I’ll briefly introduce you, and then the stage is all yours.”

“Sounds good,” he responded, though there was a slight waver in his voice. Victor placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered as the band finished their song, the faint sound of applause floating towards them. “Come on, let’s go.”

They made their way to the stage, Victor in front with Yuuri following close behind. Victor stood in front of the microphone facing the audience.

“Good evening everyone, I hope you’ve all enjoyed the music so far,” he said, and a few approved cheers erupted from the crowd. Someone asked whether Victor was going to sing, and he shook his head, smiling.

“No, not tonight, my throat’s not feeling well,” he replied, earning him a few groans. “But, I have a friend with me here who’ll be singing for you tonight.”

He put his arm around Yuuri, who looked at him nervously, playing with the ends of his sleeves.

“This is Yuuri, and it’s his first time performing here,” he began, and some loud cheers rose from the audience, “I’m glad you’re all excited! Please give him a very warm welcome.”

With that, he stepped away from the microphone, handing over the attention to Yuuri. Before he went backstage, he gave Yuuri a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and leaned over to his ear.

“Good luck,” he whispered, “I believe in you.”

Yuuri relaxed at those words, giving Victor a small smile. He stepped behind the curtains, watching Yuuri intently as he adjusted the microphone stand with shaky hands.

“Um…hi everyone,” he said quietly, earning him some enthusiastic responses. “So, like Victor said, it’s my first time performing in this club, and I hope you’ll all enjoy my singing tonight.”

Victor smiled as the audience cheered, grateful for how respectful and understanding his patrons were. He also noticed Yuuri relaxing even more, his posture turning less rigid.

“So, any requests?”

“Frank Sinatra!” someone yelled from the crowd, followed by whoops of agreement.

“Frank Sinatra?” Yuuri asked, then turned to the band behind him. They exchanged a few words before Yuuri turned back to the audience.

“Is ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ okay?” he asked. When he was met with applause and cheers from the audience, he turned towards Victor, who gave him a thumbs-up. Smiling, he took a deep breath, then signalled the band to start playing.

The swish of snare drums began, and Yuuri closed his eyes, moving his body to the familiar beat. Victor held his breath, waiting to hear Yuuri sing. What kind of voice did he have? Would he be okay without warming up his vocal cords properly?

For the first time in a long time, Victor was actually nervous about a performance, and he wasn’t even the one _performing_.

When Yuuri opened his mouth to sing, Victor felt like he was seeing a completely different person.

The nervous, unsure waiter that was onstage with him just a few minutes ago was gone, replaced by a performer in his element. Yuuri’s voice was smooth and silky, deeper than Victor expected, but not so deep it was booming. It was pleasing to the ears, a sound that someone could wrap themselves up in.

And the way he _moved_. He swayed and performed like he was born to do this, to sing his heart out onstage. His body was an instrument, and his voice the music that came out of it.

Simply put, Victor was _blown away_.

Halfway through the song, he could tell Yuuri was straining his voice a bit, since he didn’t get a chance to warm up his voice beforehand, and his voice wavered at some parts. Interestingly, Victor could also recognize elements of his own style in Yuuir’s performance, from the way he moved his hands as he sang, to how he threw smiles at the audience between lines.

They were reaching the end of the song, the instruments swelling into a crescendo along with Yuuri’s voice. He smiled as he held the high note, his eyes closed while Victor felt his soul ascend with the music.

As soon as he sang the last word, the audience went _wild_. Cheers and applause filled the club, along with several requests for an encore. Yuuri smiled dazedly, like he couldn’t really believe what was happening. He looked over at Victor, who was clapping so hard his hands were about to fall off.

“Amazing! You’re _amazing_ Yuuri!” he yelled, and had to restrain himself from flying across the stage to give Yuuri a hug. Not only did he save the night, he completely exceeded, _obliterated_ , Victor’s expectations.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so _alive_.

Yuuri turned back to the audience, clearing his throat before speaking into the microphone again.

“So…I heard some of you wanted an encore,” he started, and requests started flying at him at top speed. Victor watched proudly as Yuuri took a deep breath, ready to bless the world with his beautiful voice once again.

//

After the night wound down and the last of the patrons filed out of the club, Victor and Yuuri flopped onto the barstools, sighing with exhaustion.

“Well…that was fun,” Yuuri said, picking up a glass of alcohol.

“That’s good,” Victor responded, then clinked their glasses together. “Cheers.”

They drank, the burn of alcohol making itself very obvious as it flowed down Victor’s throat. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to drink while he was sick, but after a stressful night, he _really_ needed it.

“So, Yuuri,” Victor began, putting down his glass. “How come I’ve never seen you perform before?”

He shrugged, spinning the glass between his hands. “I don’t know, just…never got the chance, I guess.”

“All you had to do was ask. We’ve been looking for new singers, you know.”

“Yeah but…well, the last time I performed, it didn’t exactly go so well,” Yuuri admitted, ducking his head.

“Oh…I’m sorry about that,” Victor sympathised. He had a feeling it was a long story, but seeing Yuuri close in on himself, he decided not to ask. He’ll let Yuuri tell him if he ever decides to open up.

“It’s fine, I mean, it happened a while ago,” Yuuri said. “And…I kinda missed it. Performing.”

Victor hummed in agreement, very familiar with that feeling. Ever since he took over the club from Yakov, he’d been performing less, most of his time taken up by making sure everything was running smoothly each night.

“Would you be interested, though? In becoming a singer,” Victor asked, and Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Of course I am! You’re a wonderful performer, Yuuri,” Victor praised, seeing a blush creeping across the other man’s face. “You also have a beautiful voice too, although we _really_ should’ve warmed up a little before you sang.”

“You didn’t really give me a chance to do that,” Yuuri laughed, and Victor revelled in the soft sound, how it hovers in the air and caresses his ears.

“I’ll make sure to do that next time,” Victor promised. “I can also give you some pointers to make your performance better.”

“You would?” Yuuri asked, and Victor nodded.

“I believe you have the makings of a great performer,” Victor began. “If we polish your presentation a bit more, and also give some more training to your voice, you could be legendary. I guarantee it.”

Yuuri stayed silent, looking at his now-empty glass with an unreadable expression. Victor tensed, thinking that maybe he put too much pressure on Yuuri, which was definitely _not_ his intention. After a few moments, he looked at Victor with a determined expression, then turned towards the bar.

“Yurio,” he called, and the blond bartender turned around, a scowl on his face.

“What.”

“Give me three shots.”

“Three?” Yurio asked incredulously, his eyeballs practically popping out of his sockets. Victor looked over at Yuuri with the same expression, because he’s pretty sure Yuuri hasn’t had food for a while, and taking three shots on an empty stomach would get him intoxicated _fairly_ quickly.

“Please, I need three if I’m going to make this request,” he begged, and Yurio reluctantly poured out the alcohol into three shot glasses, which Yuuri downed one after another. He closed his eyes for a few moments before turning to Victor, firmly grasping him by the shoulders.

“Victor,” he said, looking straight into his eyes, “be my coach.”

“Your what?”

“My coach,” Yuuri repeated. “Be my performance coach.”

Victor stared for a few moments, getting lost in the depths of chocolate as he processed Yuuri’s request.

“Okay,” he answered, smiling. Yuuri returned the expression, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes, filled with mirth.

It was funny, how this night turned out. Victor had been so sure this would be one of the worst nights of his life, but instead, he found a man who sang like a dream, hidden away in the darkness of the club for so long. Like finding a treasure that he never knew was there.

He thought back to the people who sat in these tables not too long ago, how they laughed with each other, the tangible intimacy in the air. The pain in his chest that would throb when he looked, aware that there was _something_ missing, but he wasn’t quite sure what.

 _Ah_ , he realized, _I was lonely._

He was lonely.

But as he looked at Yuuri, who smiled at him like the sun, he felt a pleasant warmth bloom in his chest where the pain had been before.

“What type of coach do you want me to be?” Victor asked. “Do you want me to be strict? A friend? A father-figure type?”

Yuuri shook his head, gripping Victor’s shoulders tighter.

“Just yourself is fine,” he replied. “I want to be coached by _you_ , Victor.”

 _Be myself_.

 _Maybe_ , he thought, as he felt a smile growing on his face, getting bigger and bigger until he felt his cheeks straining, _I’m not so lonely anymore_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this took me an embarrassingly long time to write, but yeah i saw a live band at work and was like "oh what if yuuri was a singer", then i planned this out in the shower, and then it took me a combined 8 hours to write this including eating dinner and frequent breaks  
> scream at me on [tumblr](http://domokunrainbowkinz.tumblr.com/)


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